Welcome to the World, Sam Winchester
by jojospn
Summary: Written for Sam Winchester's birthday. Lots of fluff.


**Welcome to the World, Sam Winchester**

Mary Winchester woke up on the morning of May 2nd knowing that this would be the day she would meet her son.

She'd been through it before and knew the signs: the boost of energy and obsessive urge to houseclean associated with nesting; the days of Braxton Hicks contractions; the tell-tale drop in her abdomen. All signs that little Sammy would arrive. Plus, today was her actual due date. Of course, under normal circumstances, that date meant nothing; babies came when they damn well wanted to, not necessarily on the date predicted by the doctor. But something in her gut told Mary that this baby was going to arrive right on time.

Sure enough, just after six that morning, Mary awoke to the first throbs of contractions, painful enough to make her wince. For a moment she lay there, waiting for the moment to pass. After a while, she gently nudged her sleeping husband on the shoulder. "John, he's coming."

"How d'y'know?" John mumbled, still lying comfortably on the bed, back to his wife. Mary rolled her eyes and playfully patted him on the shoulder. "Um, I've done this before. Unless Dean actually came from the stork and not me." John groaned again, sitting up and running a hand through his hair, matted and tangled from sleep. "How far along?"

"Enough time for you to shower and look a little less like a gremlin," Mary teased, kissing her husband lightly before pulling back the sheets. "But don't take too long. I have a feeling Sammy'll be here pretty soon."

Five-year-old Dean awakened to the news that he was about to be a big brother with more enthusiasm than his father. The little boy seemed to just leap from his bed, bouncing off the walls with excitement. It took twice as long to feed him his breakfast, the little boy far too excited to keep anything down. "Sammy's coming today!" he'd announce, every few minutes, like clockwork, until finally his father had to tell him to stop. "He won't come any faster, buddy. Hurry up and finish your breakfast, Miss Ellie's going to be here soon."

At this, Dean's face visibly fell. "I'm not gonna come too?"

"No, ace. Sometimes it takes babies a while to come out. You'd just be bored sitting in the hospital. You'd have a lot more fun with Miss Ellie, trust me. But when Sammy's here we'll call you."

"Promise?"

"Scouts honour, bud." At that, Dean smiled, finishing his breakfast without further issue. It _would_ be pretty boring sitting in a yucky hospital. And as long as Mommy and Daddy called when his baby brother came, it'd be ok. Maybe he could even draw a picture for Sammy. Yeah, he'd be the first one to ever draw his baby brother a picture. Relieved, Mary went back to packing her overnight bag. The last thing she needed to worry about was her first born upset about being left behind. Granted, it was far better than what she'd feared, that Dean would be jealous of his new sibling. Instead, the boy had been excited at the prospect of being an older brother, teaching him all the things Daddy had taught him. True, once the baby arrived, all could change in the blink of an eye. Mary sighed, tried not to think of that as she sponged spilled milk from the kitchen table while her boy sloppily placed his dirty dishes in the sink.

Eleanor Richards, the aforementioned Miss Ellie, arrived fifteen minutes later, and after quick hugs and kisses goodbye, they were off to the hospital, Mary hissing in pain. The contractions had worsened within the last few minutes, enough to nearly draw the young woman to tears. And of course, every traffic light in Lawrence had to be red. "Just run it," she hissed as John eased the Impala to a stop at the intersection. "And get t-boned by that van over there? No thanks." Mary sighed, leaned back in her seat as she breathed through yet another contraction. "Just hurry, ok John? I have a feeling that Sammy's not gonna wait much longer." She closed her eyes, and suddenly a feeling of foreboding overwhelmed her, as if something was terribly wrong. For a moment, flashes of a young man her age, with green eyes that were like her very own, overwhelmed her. The man seemed pleasant enough, even somehow someone she could easily love But there was just something about him that left her uneasy. _It's just the hormones,_ she told herself as the light finally turned green and John steered the Impala to the left. _Nothing to worry about. In a few hours Sam will be here and everything will be fine._ She turned over to her husband, who smiled at her warmly, and all misgivings were gone.

XXX

Just as Mary had predicted, Samuel Charles Winchester was born at 11:54 that morning, perfectly healthy. As promised, John made a call home, and within half an hour, little Dean was in his mother's room, holding his favorite stuffed rabbit. "I thought Sammy'd like to sleep with it," he explained when questioned why he'd brought his stuffy with him. Mary smiled, all fears that Dean would still be jealous of his brother melting away. She gestured the boy over, her newborn son still cradled in her arms. "Come say hi to your baby brother," she said softly. Obediently Dean made his way over, Oliver the bunny still in his chubby fists, and peered at the littl face looking up at him. The boy had been sleeping most of the time since his delivery, but when the little boy leaned over to look at him, he opened his eyes wide, looking up at him at what both Winchesters could have sworn was admiration, despite being only a little over half an hour old. Dean had an equally awed look on his face as he leaned closer, almost petrified to come any closer, lest he hurt his new brother. "Hi, Sammy," he whispered. "I brought Ollie with me to help you sleep. Here," gesturing the stuffy in front of the boy, so close that John had to take it. "We'll put it in his crib, son," he smiled, setting the toy aside. But Dean was too wrapped up in his new sibling to notice, admiring every little detail of his tiny face. Yeah, it was really red, and kinda scrunched up, but it was really cute, too. And even if he did look a little ugly, Dean knew that he was going to love his baby brother and protect him from the world, no matter what.

"Do you want to hold him?" Mary asked, and for the first time, Dean paled. What if he dropped him? He looked really breakable. But Mary noticed her son's hesitation and smiled. "It's ok," she said, scooting over and gesturing to the spot beside her on her bed. "I'll show you how to hold him."

Dean still looked a little hesitant, but he crawled up on the bed beside his mother, and allowed her to gently place the infant in his arms. For a moment, the boy did nothing, too afraid to hurt his baby brother. But after a moment, as tiny fingers grasped at Dean's pinky, the little boy relaxed, carefully holding the boy as tenderly as any parent. "It's ok, Sammy," he told him, giving the baby a kiss on top of his head. "I'm gonna take care of you. I promise."


End file.
